


I hope we'll always give each other support

by readythefanons



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, Roleswap, rated T for I think one swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27555019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readythefanons/pseuds/readythefanons
Summary: Lorenz was studying when Leonie interrupted her with a box full of swords that needed polishing. Four conversations, from friendship to rather something more.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Leonie Pinelli
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	I hope we'll always give each other support

**Author's Note:**

> Leonie and Lorenz's support conversations, with the minor tweak that Leonie is a noble boy and Lorenz is a commoner girl.  
> I'm sure this has been done, but now it's been done again!

**Polish my sword (not a euphemism)**

“Hey, Lorenz, got a minute?”

Lorenz looked up. She had been reviewing her lecture notes in the Golden Deer classroom, but—technically, she supposed she did have some free time now. She kept her face friendly as Leonie approached the table where she was studying, a box in his arms.

“Certainly,” she said. “What do you have there?”

“I found a bunch of old swords when I was poking around,” Leonie said cheerfully. The noble did almost everything with a certain amount of cheer. “Seemed like a waste to let them sit and gather dust when they could be useful. Help me out; let’s get them cleaned up.” He rested the box on the table with a heavy sound and produced weapons oil and cloth.

Lorenz set her notes to the side with perhaps more precision than was necessary, already fighting to reign in her irritation. Lorenz understood that, as a commoner, it was her place in the world to take directions from nobles, but that didn’t mean she liked it when her classmate expected her to just drop what she was doing to clean up a bunch of old weapons he’d found in a closet somewhere.

Leonie sat down next to Lorenz. She froze.

“What are you doing?” she asked. Leonie blinked at her.

“Like I said, they just need a little care. With some maintenance, some of these will really shine,” he said. Lorenz couldn’t help how she frowned. (She knew, she _knew_ that it was unattractive, how readily she frowned, how her brows twitched together over her long, straight nose, knew that it was bad for her marriage prospects, that it would wrinkle her prematurely, but—too many people in the world merited a frown.) “Have you never polished a weapon before?”

“I have,” Lorenz allowed. Leonie smiled, an open and inviting kind of expression. Lorenz distrusted it.

“Great. With both of us working, this’ll go twice as fast,” he said. “What?”

“If,” Lorenz said before she thought better. “Never mind.”

“You thought I was dumping this on you and running away, didn’t you,” Leonie accused. Lorenz blushed.

“No,” she lied.

“You did. You really think I’d do something like that?” he asked. Lorenz didn’t look at him, got to work on the first sword.

“You’re a noble, and I’m a commoner,” she said. She didn’t mutter, didn’t mumble. Her voice was clear and forthright as it always was. The words came out perhaps more clipped than they might have otherwise. “It would be natural if you—”

“Lorenz, I,” Leonie hesitated. He said, “I think maybe this is as good a time as any to bring this up. Just because I’m a noble and you’re a commoner doesn’t mean I’m going to order you around. It’s not—that wouldn’t be right.” Lorenz waited for him to continue. When it became apparent that he was done, she raised a brow.

“You’re a highborn noble, the trueborn child of Margrave Pinelli and his lady wife. _My_ family sells soaps and cosmetics. If you give me an order, you expect me to tell you no?”

“Well, I,” Leonie stopped. Lorenz looked away from him, concentrated on the work in front of her. It was almost depressing how easily he was stumped. “First of all, I’m my parents’ _fourth_ child, and all my siblings are healthy. Even if I wanted to inherit the margravate, which I don’t, there’s not much of a chance of that happening. Also, your family is _famous._ You can buy Gloucester Goods in every capital in the Alliance and probably half the Empire.”

“Ah, then of course I, a commoner girl, should feel completely at ease telling you to take your box of stinky weapons and go away,” Lorenz sighed. Leonie—reached out, put a broad hand over her thin one.

“You should have,” he said, and he looked—serious. Lorenz wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him look serious before. “Lorenz. Miss Gloucester. I really, truly did not mean to order you to stop what you were doing and help me with this. I only thought to ask for your help, as your—classmate. I apologize.”

Leonie stood, repacked the contents of the box, and left with it. Lorenz—thought to say something, but didn’t know what. She was still trying to think of it when Leonie left.

Lorenz bent back over her notes. She had no trouble finding her place, but the concentration she had been enjoying was gone. Drat that Leonie.

* * *

**Kneeling at your feet (not like that)**

“Hello, Leonie. Busy as usual, I see,” Lorenz said.

“You got that right,” Leonie said. “Uh, all this stuff is kind of heavy, would you move over?” he asked. Indeed, the noble was positively burdened by all the things he was carrying. There were two crates, a basket balanced on top, and several bags hanging off each arm.

“Alas, I cannot comply with your request,” Lorenz said. Leonie, who had been trying to edge around her, stopped.

“Seriously? I’m glad you feel comfortable telling me ‘no’ and all, but did you have to pick this second?” he asked disbelievingly. Lorenz smiled thinly.

“As it happens, I’m not just being perverse,” she said. “You’ve injured your foot. I could see you were favoring it from across the hall.”

“Okay?” Leonie said, clearly not understanding what Lorenz was trying to say. Goddess save her from foolish noblemen.

“Heavy lifting,” she said with a pointed look at Leonie’s burden, “Will only worsen the injury. Please permit me to examine it.”

“Well, I guess—ah, actually, maybe not?” Leonie said. Lorenz, already crouching at his feet, glanced up. It was hard to see past all the things he was carrying, but it looked like he was blushing. “Yeah, actually, Lorenz, maybe, uh. Maybe don’t go bowing at my feet in public?”

“I am not _bowing_ to you,” Lorenz said resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “I am tending to your wound.”

“That’s not what it’ll look like,” Leonie mumbled. In a louder voice, he said, “It’s fine, leave it.”

“Hold still and keep quiet a moment,” Lorenz said carelessly. Yes, Leonie’s foot was _quite_ swollen. Fortunately, Gloucester Goods had just the remedy. Lorenz dug in her bag and produced a very small jar of the appropriate ointment. “This is a specialty of my family’s, adapted from a recipe from my great-great grandmother,” she said conversationally.

“You just carry that around with you?” Leonie asked, craning to see Lorenz past the things he was carrying.

“Of course. It wouldn’t do to be unprepared if someone is in need,” Lorenz said, smoothing the ointment on the afflicted area. Leonie neither flinched away nor voiced complaint, though Lorenz knew that even having the medicine applied his wound must have been painful. “And, if it so happens that I am able to ease someone’s suffering with the use of my family’s wares, that person will be able to attest to the efficacy of our products. People are much more likely to buy a product that was sincerely recommended by a friend.”

“Huh,” Leonie said. Lorenz—oh, she cursed herself. That sort of thing, despite being basic logic, was exactly the kind of behavior that would make her look like a grasping social climber. That she had said it only to Leonie was little comfort; anyone could have walked by and heard her. “That’s really smart.”

“Thank you ever so much,” Lorenz said coolly.

“Come on, I didn’t mean it like that, I know you’re way smarter than me,” Leonie said easily. Lorenz blushed—that had been what she’d been reacting to, but somehow to hear it aloud was not entirely comfortable. “Your parents are lucky their business is going to someone so sharp, and I do mean that in more ways than one.”

“Forgive me,” Lorenz mumbled, fumbling in her bag for a dressing for Leonie’s foot. Drat. She’s neglected to pack bandages. “I have been told I can be—” bitchy “indelicate.”

“Nothing to forgive,” Leonie said carelessly. If only it could be that easy. He glanced down, “Wow you even carry bandages, you are prepared.”

“I only wish that were the case,” Lorenz sighed, folding her kerchief neatly. “This will have to suffice. Don’t worry; it’s clean.”

“Wait, is that your handkerchief? Lorenz, you can’t use that. It’s embroidered,” Leonie said. Lorenz ignored her. “Those things cost money.”

“Everything costs money,” Lorenz said. She secured the impromptu bandage and straightened. Leonie was giving her a helpless look.

“Hey, thanks, that’s really nice of you.”

“Just helping out a friend,” Lorenz said, not meeting his eyes. She helped herself to the basket and one of the crates Leonie was carrying.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Leonie squawked. Lorenz finally allowed herself the indulgence of rolling her eyes at the noble.

“Helping you with your burden; your foot will take longer to heal if you put too much weight on it.” Lorenz hefted her burden into a more comfortable position. Gracious, it was heavy, and this wasn’t even half of what Leonie had been carrying.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Too late, now where are were taking these? Your room?”

* * *

**Return of token (It doesn’t mean anything)**

“Lorenz, got a minute?” Leonie called. It was years later in a changing world.

“Ah, Leonie. Are we to sharpen swords again?” she joked. Leonie smiled wanly, stopped a few steps away. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“No, I came to give you this back. Sorry, I know I held onto it for a while.” In his hand was—it was one of Lorenz’s old handkerchiefs, from her academy days. When Lorenz didn’t take it, he said, “You lent me this, remember?”

“I recall giving it to you,” Lorenz said at last. “You needed a bandage, and that had to suffice.”

“Well, it took a while to get it properly cleaned again, and then—well, you remember what happened. I never got the chance to return it, so I’m giving it back now.”

“That’s not necessary,” Lorenz said, feeling—strange, that Leonie would have kept her kerchief for so long.

“Just take it, okay? I borrowed it from a friend and now I’m giving it back,” Leonie said. Lorenz extended her hand, let him place it in her palm. “Thanks.” Lorenz looked at the square of fabric, neatly folded, in her hand. There was a pattern of briars around the edge, and her initials were stitched in the corner. There wasn’t even a spot on it, and no sign of wear. It had clearly been cared for

“Why did you hold onto it?” she found herself asking. “They’re not that expensive.” She looked up in time to see Leonie shrug.

“Everything costs money,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “Roads cost money, bridges cost money, walls cost money. There’s never enough for everything, so it’s stupid to waste.” Lorenz looked at her in surprise. That was—not what she expected from a noble. And as she was looking at him, she thought, _always rushing around, collects odds and ends, restores old swords, cares for other people’s borrowed things._ If he wasn’t a noble, she’d have called it frugal.

“The roads and bridges in Pinelli are always in excellent condition. My family and their friends have commented on it more than once. It makes for easy travel and easy trade,” she said. Leonie smiled at the ground. “They also wonder why Pinelli isn’t one of the Great Houses, being instead one of the largest of the minor houses.” Leonie stopped smiling but kept looking at the ground. “Leonie, is it expensive to be a Great House?”

“Well I wouldn’t know, not being from one of them,” Leonie said. “But, uh. Probably. The Big Five all keep a second house in Derdriu, and that means twice as many expenses. Plus, Derdriu fashions change all the time so they’re always buying new things.” He shrugged. “Seems like a waste, when there’s always so much to do.”

“Being a Great House also brings increased influence at the roundtable, more say in the running of the Alliance,” Lorenz pointed out. Leonie shrugged, shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Well, take it up with my dad, I guess, or my sister. She’s the heir and all that.”

“As if they’d listen to me,” Lorenz scoffed. Leonie finally looked up at that, smiled crookedly.

“They would, if they were smart,” he said. Lorenz—didn’t know what to make of that, nor of his smile. She was too flustered to think of a response before Leonie left.

* * *

**Return of favor (of course it means something)**

“It’s only a scratch, Leonie. I’m alright,” Lorenz sighed, cradling her arm against her chest.

“One mistake like that in battle and you’re done,” the noble said. Ordinarily, Lorenz hated being lectured—especially when she already knew what the other person was saying—but she didn’t feel angry just now. Leonie reached out and gently took hold of her injured hand. “This is your weapons hand. Let me stop the bleeding.”

“Apologies for the trouble,” Lorenz murmured as she allowed him to inspect it. Still not angry. Her wound was bleeding sluggishly, but still bleeding.

“No trouble,” Leonie said firmly, “And no apologies. ‘Thanks’ is what you say when a friend helps you out.” He finished his inspection and dug in a pouch until he produced an ointment (Lorenz couldn’t help but notice it was in a jar decorated with Gloucester Goods purple) and a square of fabric. “This will do.”

“That’s your handkerchief,” Lorenz said, recognizing the object in his hand.

“I’m out of bandages,” Leonie apologized, beginning to treat the wound.

“Those are valuable,” Lorenz objected. Leonie smiled at her crookedly, and she blushed. “Well they are.”

“Fair’s fair then,” Leonie said easily.

“You didn’t bleed on mine,” Lorenz said resentfully.

Leonie smiled down at his handiwork and said, “I also held onto yours for years, so. It all balances out.”

“Hmph.” They were quiet as he finished binding the wound. Leonie tied the bandage neatly but kept his hold on Lorenz’s hand. Lorenz… let him. The silence between them built, a soft weight that made it hard to take a proper breath.

“Thank you,” she said at last. Leonie squeezed her hand gently before letting it go.

“Happy to. Not happy you got hurt, mind, but I’m always happy to help.”

“Thank you,” Lorenz said again. She cradled her bandaged arm to her chest, ran the fingers of the other hand over the dressing. It was neat, practically perfect. “I am glad we are friends.” She looked up in time to see Leonie’s smile, sweet and bright.

“Me too,” he said. Then, face turning red, he said, “In fact, I’ve begun to think of you as rather something more.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, I hope we’ll always give each other support!” Leonie declared, turning on his heel and hooking his hands behind his head.

Lorenz watched him take a few steps away before her brain caught up with her. It was easy to catch up to him, just a few steps. It was hard to put her hand on his arm. When he turned, it was easy to lean up on her toes and press their mouths together.

**Author's Note:**

> In their “paired ending” Lorenz becomes one of the Pinelli family’s most trusted advisors. She advises Leonie’s older sister (the actual heir) on (a) generating income so they can (b) continue to fund infrastructure etc _and_ (c) afford to make a case for a more substantial seat at the roundtable. It’s an investment in your future, she explains, more clout means more bargaining power when you negotiate with your neighbors, she says. The Pinellis all nod seriously and take notes, except Leonie who’s sitting in the back of the room with his arms behind his head looking all proud of his Very Smart Wife. The Gloucesters weren’t totally sure what to make of their daughter’s marriage at first—yes, he’s a noble, but the Pinellis are what passes for poor for a noble family—but they come around. As a happy bonus, Leonie is a very enthusiastic and surprisingly good salesman for Gloucester Goods. The Pinelli Margravate may or may not endow a scholarship fund for commoner students who want to better themselves at private schools such as the Officer’s Academy and the School of Sorcery, etc.  
> \--  
> Comments are a delight!  
> Come yell with me about how commoner!Lorenz would probably relate a lot to Dorothea and Ingrid (without really feeling comfortable with either comparison) and noble!Leonie is aware of differences in class/rank but doesn’t feel them / care about them in the same way as in canon and probably relates more to Sylvain but feels weird about it because he doesn't carry anywhere near the same crest/heir baggage.  
> \--  
> The Gloucesters sell cosmetics because of a comment by [whaleandjanuary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whaleandjanuary/) who writes some delightful FE3H fic


End file.
